


Pure Gold

by PurpleFlowerGardener



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, King Thor (Marvel), Other, Ragnarok, Suicidal Thoughts, Thor Is Not Stupid, Thor Ragnarok SPOILERS, i'll add more later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-02 10:43:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12725097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleFlowerGardener/pseuds/PurpleFlowerGardener
Summary: After Thor: Ragnarok, I've placed some more time between the end of the movie and the post-credits scenes. A society is forming from the rubble of Asgard, and Thor is the king of a refugee people. This is no place for a girl with no one, except maybe the little conversations with the other Prince, Loki.I suck at summaries.





	1. ~1~

For the first few days, I was cold. Not cold like shivering, but I was damp and chilled to the core, and not only was my body cold, my soul was numb. The first few days were hell. Everyone was hungry, many were cold like me, and smelled bad. I was dirty, we didn’t have a working hygiene system yet, and before it was up and running, I felt like my hair would never shine like it had when I’d lived on Asgard. Asgard the Island in the sky, not the people.

I couldn’t understand at first. I guess I was in shock. My home was- gone. Nothing left but space rocks floating in the void of space. Everything smelled bad and I felt like just stopping breathing, but I was some of the last of my people. Asgard’s population had always been fairly small compared to those of other races, but now- Hela had reduced our population to a meager 481, not including the aliens that our leaders had brought along. Asgard had been reaped, like the genocides every culture experiences. Asgard was now an overcrowded ship, and we were refugees of a culture that had been the highest of most in the galaxy. 

I had to not think about it. My mother- dead. I couldn’t think about it. I had to take care of what was left of my people, anyway, I could. That way ended up being- drum roll- laundry, once it was available. I didn’t really mind. It was a menial task that kept me busy and useful and allowed me hours to think. It allowed me to sing. Usually, I was alone, I mean, who likes doing laundry, so I got to pour my soul into my voice. 

Singing eventually got me- attention? One day, as I was scrubbing some old dresses, I was humming an old song my mother had taught me when I was little. It was light and made me happy, even if thinking of her brought tears to my eye. I scrubbed the dress for the last time and pinned it to the line I was working with and sensed a presence behind me, so I turned around quickly. Loki, prince of Asgard, stood in the doorway, his eyes piercing mine.

“You-” I swallowed my wordlessness, “You have the wrong laundry room,” I informed him, and looked down. I looked at my shoes instead of his face.

“Ah-” he said, his voice seemingly husky at first. “It seems I do. Good day.” He spun out of the doorway and marched out of view. The way he’d been looking at me confused me. So much depth to the way he was looking, his face, his stance, it was like he wasn’t thinking. It seemed like he was listening to my singing. I blushed to think of someone listening to my idle singing. I stopped for the rest of my day.

See, when Hela invaded Asgard, nearly all young working-class men were soldiers, so our population of men and woman was unbalanced. There were three laundry rooms for the woman, according to name, and there were two for men. That seemed to be the ration. Three women for every two men.

I shook off the prince’s visit, and finished my work day, and returned to my quarters. People with necessary jobs got ‘private’ quarters. It was a large room partitioned into many. It was better than sleeping in the bunks those who had unnecessary jobs had to sleep in. One little place where only I was. It was nice.

I lay down on my simple linens and pondered the way he’d looked at me. I was overreacting, surely, but my mind continued to replay the short exchange between us. All it was was directions, but my mind kept trying to see more in it, and I couldn’t figure out why.

After laying for a short time, stretching my back, I wandered through to the communal bathrooms. Private stalls, but this ship had been made for cargo. Where it had been made, the woman must not usually be in the shipping business, as bathrooms were not marked with anything other than a ‘BATH’ on the door. So men and women shared bathrooms. Stalls had been marked. Stalls with a thin line on them were for the woman, and unmarked doors were for men. Same with shower stalls. I opened my bathroom bag and pulled out my brush. I ran it through my hair and watched it. It never looked right under the fluorescent lights of the ship. It never shone like the sun like it had on Asgard. 

I crossed to a shower stall and walked in. I locked it behind me and pulled down the curtains from the roof that blocked the outside from viewing me. It was an extra layer of protection from prying eyes I liked. It was rough. We were a refugee race now, and it was- hard is too light a word.


	2. ~2~

It was a glorious day when Prince Thor made contact with a trading cargo ship. We didn’t have much to give, but it was an apparently the aliens we encountered, Arorians, were willing to trade stories for goods.

Originally, Thor had tried to intimidate them, but it was extremely apparent that we were too weak to fight. They had laughed in our face. They said that he was funny for trying to intimidate them, but they’d still be willing to strike a bargain. 

Everyone was kinda scared of them. They were goat creatures with Capricorn horns and blood red eyes. They looked a little like the human myth of say-tors. Nevertheless, they came onto our ship, and a lady Arorian, slightly smaller and plumper than the male Arorians, came and the two of us sat. I told her a story from my youth, and she recorded it, promising my anonymity. 

She listened to my story, and she was a good listener. Her dark red eyes trained on mine, and her fangs protruded when I told her jokes in my story. I guess that was a smile. An absolutely terrifying smile. 

I told her a story of when I was little and climbed a mountain by myself and met an old woman who told me I was an oracle and told me jokes and that one day I’d be a princess. I’d laughed at the time, I was just the daughter of a laundress, who’d want to marry me? 

She gave me a card once the story was finished. She flicked her forked tongue at me in appreciation and stood up. She explained in her terrifying voice that I could take it to the captain of their ship and trade it for some luxury goods. They were a surprisingly nice species. My story got me a new outfit and a side bag. It was a long shirt, it went down to just above my knees, it was white with a light Blue line that wound its way all around it. It came with a tailored-to-fit-me, pair of pants. They were jet black with a line of white up the side of the right leg, and they were skin tight, and no matter how far I stretched them, the fabric didn’t even make a sound. The side bag was full of sewing equipment, all very high quality.

The main hall was almost full of people and Arorians talking, but then Thor got onto the main stage where his ‘throne’ was. His voice boomed over the crowd.

“The Arorians have to go soon, so finish your stories and get your stuff soon. The Captain of their ship has been extremely gracious to us, giving us more technology to sustain our power supply. This means we have more food.” He said over the quiet crowd, and a cheer went up. We’d been given enough food to survive, but only just.

People finished up with their stories, and I saw people receive large scenes of fabric and things, and some Arorians pointed toward me, and a few others who’d got a similar side bag to me. I sighed, I guessed I’d have to have another job. As I sighed at the notion that I’d have to work more, a hand on my shoulder made me jump.

“Flash promotion. You’re no longer going to be a laundress, for the time being. We need new clothes, your seamstress now.” Thor said as I curtsied.

“That's wonderful.” I sighed. “I was often cold because of constantly working with water.” Thor smiled down at me. 

“What is your name, child?” He asked and I dithered. 

“I’m 1,038, and my name is Gwyneth,” I said, and Thor blushed.

“You look young. I apologize.” he bowed his head at me and walked to the next person who’d received a large amount of sewing equipment. I was glad I'd picked up so many useful skills, being so low in the social hierarchy of Asgard. I’d been the equivalent of street scum, so I’d learned to take care of myself. 

After the Arorain’s had vacated, everything went back to normal, but I was assigned to a new room, one with a large window showing the vacuum of space. There was an actual door to the room, and the lighting was far better. The workroom was small and alone. I was joyful to know that I was still given the wonderful privacy my previous job had allotted. 

A woman with a small child clinging to her hip came in first. She handed me a spool of thread and yards of scarlet fabric and asked me to sew a shirt and pants for her boy. I got down on my knees and took his measurements, and the two left. I set to making him the shirt, as his old one was filthy and worn thin. I was quick about it, sewing. It was a small shirt, but I added more fabric so It would last longer on the boy, with correct care. 

I found myself singing again, but it seemed to be a melody I’d never heard before. The song just- came to me. It was beautiful, and it struck me as a song from another place. Somewhere far away, where no one was sad. 

The song finished itself, and another started as I adeptly stitched the small boy’s shirt together. The second song was faster paced, and it felt a little more like some of the music that an alien race had brought. It was fast, and the words brought a frustration of love to my mind. There was a lot of modulation the voice so it was a little hard to sing along to. 

I finished the shirt in record time. Once I hung it up, I started on the pants. They were a little easier, simple, but the music changed again. I finally figured out where it had come from, deep in the bottom of my sewing bag, was a little machine, displaying the title of the song and the artist. In another pocket, there were headphones. They were labeled, so I knew what it was. I plugged them into the music maker and put them into my ears. I was instantly overwhelmed by the melodies playing in my ears. A fast pace, lots of string instruments played quickly, and a girl singing about bubble gum and female dogs, but she was saying that she wanted to be the female dog. It didn't make sense to me, but I still liked it. It imbued a wild anger into my blood, and I sewed like my life depended on it.

The earpieces got itchy and I took them out and played the music out loud, and it made me feel more alive than I’d ever been.


	3. ~3~

The dining hall was half full, and I knew my dinner would be alone. On our starship, the people had been calling it The Guardian, the lights were fine-tuned to simulate a sun cycle. It rose on the east side of the ship and set on the west of the ship. They ended up running on earth cycles, and it was startling to see the sunrise in the east. 

My dinner was bigger than usual. After meeting the Arorians, our power to food creation was doubled, so people actually had enough to eat for once. The quality also got better. I’d got some lasagna with lots of cheese and veggies, and an apple for fruit. The apple was simulated, but it was still good. 

I was about to take the last bite of my dinner when someone sat down opposite me. I looked up, and a little fear ran through my veins. It was Loki again.

“I understand you know how to sew?” He asked, and once again, I was unable to look him in the eye. 

“Yes, I sew,” I said quietly, and looked up at him for a second, gauging his mood. He seemed like a quiet contemplative person at the moment, and so I found myself able to look him in the eye.

“I know you're on break, but after dinner, could you help me? I accidentally tore my shirt.” He unbuttoned the top of his jacket, just enough to show me a rip in his tunic. 

“Yes, your Highness. I can fix it. It will not look like new, but I can fix it.” I replied and looked back down at my plate. 

“Shall I meet you at your workroom?” he stood up, and I nodded. “It's room 482?”

“Yes. I’ll be there soon.” I replied and he smirked.

“Goodbye,” he said, and walked away. I finished my lasagna and apple, it had begun to taste like sand. I got up and washed my plate, and replaced it in the covered and started toward the exit. I walked to my workroom, but I didn't’ see him. I opened the door, and he was standing, looking out into the sky. 

“I figured you would wait outside,” I said, and he looked over at me, not moving his body much. 

“I knew you had a room with a view. I wanted to see it.” he gestured to space. I nodded. 

“Usually it’s nothing,” I said and looked out. He stepped to the side and gestured for me to stand next to him. I tentatively walked up to him and we looked out. In the distance, there were close to a solar system. A dark red star shone darkly on four planets, one was too close to support life. The next was in the right place, but it was far too big to have anything more than bacterial goop. The next was the right size, but it was too far to have anything living on it. The forth was tiny and dark.

“It’s dying.” I pointed to the star. “It's too cold.” Loki nodded.

“In its golden age, the third could have propagated life,” he said, pointing at the planet he said.

“Maybe it did, once. Space is infinitely old.” I theorized, and he nodded. 

“What is your name?” he asked, and I smiled.

“Gwyneth, or Gwyn, whichever you’d like,” I replied and he smiled a little.

“Well, Gwyneth, I think you should fix my shirt.” He unbuttoned his coat fully. It was long and dark green. He put it on a hook that had been on the wall before I got there. The rip in his shirt was long, it went down to the middle of his chest. He gingerly took the tunic off, and my eyes roamed his figure of their own accord. He handed it to me the shirt and smirked. I blushed beet red. I took the shirt in a shaking hand and crossed to my sewing table. On the rack of thread I had, I located one that looked similar to the color of the thread used in the rest. I turned back to him and looked at his face.

“Comfort of Fashion?” I asked, and he looked at the shirt.

“Comfort. No one sees these usually, anyway.” He said and looked back at me. I nodded and sat down at my station. He was thin, much thinner than most men I’d known. I’d never really seen a man without anything covering his chest, so I had nothing to compare it to, but there was something vaguely animal about the structure of him. It made me feel weirdly wrong, but also, right. I guessed it was attraction. He was pretty, but no woman I’d ever spoken to had ever expressed any notion that he was attractive. Most were annoyed by his pranks or laughing with him.

I kept sneaking glances his way, he’d crossed back to the window, and his back was to me. He had two little dimples in his lower back, and I’d never known men had those. I thought the only woman had them. I finished stitching his shirt, comfort over fashion. I rose and cleared my throat.

“Sire?” I said quietly and looked away. I knew one thing, even if I didn’t know much about the dynamic of ‘love’. It was immodest of me to look at him without a shirt. If he’d seen me sneaking glances at him, he might be angry, so be a good little follower. He crossed over to me and took the shirt from me. He studied the stitching, and he seemed satisfied. He pulled it on over his chest, a shame really. He leaned against my desk and looked down at me. He was tall, so he had to look down at me.

“I have a question for you, Gwyn.” He stated. His eyes seemed to be darker.

“Yes, Sire?” I asked and looked into his eyes, and I felt vaguely small standing next to him.

“Have you ever seen a shirtless man before?” He fought a smirk as I blushed even redder than before.

“No,” I said just audibly and looked down. He chuckled darkly, and I sucked in a breath.

“Thank you for fixing my shirt. The stitching is excellent.” He pushed off from the table and stepped to the hook and put on his jacket. He smiled darkly at me again as he was about to exit, and then he stepped out and closed the door.

I hadn’t been wrong, the time he’d showed up at the door of the laundry room. There had been something in his face, something dark. I’d known it, I’d known it, I’d known it. I sank to the floor and pressed my face against the glass of my window, looking down into the vacuum of space. We’d started to pass the solar system now, it grew smaller by the minute. I smiled against the glass and closed my eyes. He’d made me feel something. All those dark smiles, the little dimples in his lower back, he’d made me feel something new, something totally unexpected. Well, not totally. I’d known it was common for people to feel such ways, but it had never happened to me. I just figured it would never happen to me. 

I opened my eyes again, and brushed a little of my hair behind my ear, and grinned at my reflection. New things and feelings were welcome.


	4. ~4~

I asked Thor if I could move into my workroom, and he told me it would be ok, I thanked him, and I smiled, and he smiled back. I got help from a guard, who helped me drag my bed into my workroom. I pushed it against the wall and flopped down. I was not a strong girl, so I was tired from the exertion of moving my bed. I was also tired from work. I’d been working as a seamstress for a week, and my hands were sore, and my eyes were tired from working with stitches. 

Nevertheless, I couldn’t nap. My mind buzzed with everything that had happened in the last week. Loki’s visit to get his shirt fixed had rattled me. In the next week, things had been different. The light and feel of things were more optimistic. People seemed to be smiling and laughing a lot more, I’d even seen a bunch of people having a party. I’d smiled and dodged through it, and gone into the bathroom to shower. There had been two women making out, one sitting on the sinks and the other standing, pressing against her. They didn’t notice me, so I slipped out unnoticed. I found my way to the other side of the ship, where I got the shower I’d been looking for. After the shower, I changed into my long shirt and stretchy pants. 

I walked out into the hall, my hair was still wet, but I didn’t mind. I wrapped my towel around it and walked smack dab into another person. I looked up, it was Loki. He’d looked pissed at first, but he looked down at me and his look softened. 

“Be more careful, miss. Not everyone would be as happy to be run into by you as I am,” he smirked and I blushed. He brushed past me, walking down the hall. I bit my lip and started walking back toward my past bunk room. 

Now I lay on my bed and replayed the week in my head, in my private room. I stretched my body out, wearing my comfy Frankenstein pajamas. I’d made them from all the scraps from people I’d made clothes from, and it was beyond comfortable. 

A knock on my door startled the hell out of me. I sat up, and ran a hand through my hair, realizing how unkempt I was.

“Uh, gimme a sec!” I shouted through the door. I pulled off my Franken-PJs and had my shirt half on when Loki barged into my room. I screamed a little and jerked my shirt on as fast as I could. 

“THE HELL?” I shouted at him, and he rolled his eyes.

“Oh calm down. It’s not like I haven’t seen breasts before. I need you to sew something for me.” He smirked at my horror. I got angry. I got up onto my tiptoes and slapped him.

“Shut up! You don’t just barge into a lady’s room without knocking!” I shouted at him. He put his hand to his face and my blood ran cold at the gravity of what I’d done. He looked at me, and the animal nature to him intensified. I was angry, but he was about to go ballistic. I stepped back toward the glass, and he started walking toward me. He backed me into the glass and got up into my face. He was so close I could count his eyelashes. 

“Do. Not. Hit. Me. I don’t care if Asgard has been reduced by tenfold, I’ll kill you. Am I making myself clear?” He growled at me, and I squeaked. I nodded extremely quickly. He pushed off the glass and walked out of my room without looking back. I slid down to the ground. Instead of fear, I was relieved. I’d hit a prince, and he’d not killed me.

It was impossible for me to nap then. My blood was more adrenaline than iron and plasma. My heart was going crazy with the memory of Loki being at my throat. It really had been a stupid impulse, to slap him. I giggled, relief washing over me. I was not dead. I realized I’d have to avoid Loki for a while, give him time to cool off. The notion of not seeing him in the halls was a little sad, I didn’t want to avoid him. He’d flirt with me and make me blush, and it was nice. The way he talked to me made me happy, but I’d gone and messed it all up. I was pretty sad about it, to say the least. 

I sat back and let my legs extend and spread. I sat thinking, there was nothing more that I could have wanted in that moment was to turn back time and stop my hand’s fateful swing. Or just let him see me in my pajamas.

Sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *SLAP*


	5. ~5~

Loki seemed to be avoiding me too, for a week at least. I only saw him at meal times, and occasionally entering or exiting the bathroom. I missed him more than I thought I would. Before sleep, I’d stare out my window as I fell asleep. The infinity of space was comforting in an odd way. All the floating rubble and gas was just as lonely as I was. 

I was lonely. Even before Asgard the place fell, I had no friends. I had my mother and father, but I was always alone. Of course, I was friendly with people, but having him talk to me sometimes had been far more important to me than I’d let myself believe. My pillow was my best friend for a little while, soaking up my bemoaned issues, and tears. Yeah, I cried over Loki’s absence. That lonely. 

I woke up before my first shift, and shuffled to the dining hall, and grabbed a plate of eggs and fried potatoes. I sat down by a window and looked out on the space ahead. Nothing but white dots. I saw Thor enter the room, and a small round of applause sounded, but most went back to just eating, and he seemed content with the lesser attention. When Loki entered the room a few minutes later, he was greeted with a similar ovation, but he just seemed not to care. He spotted me, and his eyes narrowed. He turned away, and a spike of sadness pierced my heart. I looked down into my food, I was suddenly unhungry. I realized the unfeeling numbness had been creeping back into my soul, but I felt nothing, but the dark pit that whispered terrible things to me.

I forced myself to eat what was left on my plate, and felt sick, cleaned it and put it back into the cabinet. I trudged back to my workroom, only to find a note taped to my door. It said I was not working for the day, and it seemed to be glowing on the back. Green cursive told me to go to the important people’s quarters. 

I made my way to the end of the ship that had the truly private housing, and one door, painted green but rusting, was embalmed with the name of the one who was calling me. Loki. I knocked twice, my heart felt as heavy as an anvil. A quiet ‘come in’ was just audible, and so I turned the doorknob and entered. The room was bare, but a luxury aspect about it twisted my stomach into knots. Loki had been hiding such awesome luxury from his people, the greedy fuck. I felt vaguely comforted that I was able to feel a little anger. It cut a red knife into the void inside.

“You left me a note?” I looked at him, not feeling the way he made me feel before, as he was sitting in a green armchair, sitting sprawled out like a starfish.

“Yes. I wanted to apologize.” he stood up and walked to me slowly. I knew I should have felt something. I knew I was supposed to feel happy he was seeing the error of his ways and trying for redemption, but no. Just- empty.

“Ok,” I said, and I seemed no longer at all unable to meet his gaze. 

“I’m sorry I threatened your life.” He said and put a hand on my arm.

“You didn’t say anything I haven’t already heard,” I said, and a look washed over his face.

“Who-” he seemed baffled. “Who’s threatened to kill you before?” He asked like he really cared. I blinked slowly.

“I heard things like that every day for most of my life,” I told him, and a small smile tugged at my lips if only he knew the horrors inside.

“Who has threatened your life? They will be punished for such a crime. I promise you.” His hand tightened on my shoulder. He seemed so angry. 

“You can’t seem to stop threatening me,” I whispered, but it was loud enough for Loki to hear. A wave of realization spread across his face, along with disbelief, then understanding

“You-” he seemed unable to speak. My tendencies always make people uncomfortable. He stepped back and slid his hands down my arm and folded up my dress sleeves. He studied my wrists intently, and then looked back into my face, so much was in his eyes. Rage, sadness, hope, and so much more I couldn’t name fought on his face.

Suddenly, he kissed me. It was long, and nothing beyond the lips, but his hands pulled my wrists to my middle, and he put two fingers over the veins in my wrist. He was surprisingly warm for a frost giant. He was warm and alive, and as he kissed me and felt my pulse, a strange warmth spread through my soul. The void seemed to be lessening, but just a little. Like the beginning of a battle against an enemy of the crown. He broke the kiss, leaving me cold. 

“I remember how you are feeling.” he looked into my eyes unblinkingly. “Years ago, I was far worse. Please.” I knew what he was asking of me without him saying the words. I nodded slowly, and he wrapped his arms around me, and I was warm again, surrounded by a Loki I’d never seen before. I liked him.

He smelled like pine trees, and leather, and life. He was warm and wonderful, and the feeling seemed to seep back into my chest. I felt again, and it was like ambrosia to me, nectar of the gods. He rested his head on top of my head, and I rested my head in the crook of his neck and shoulder, where I felt I could stay forever.


	6. ~6~

I seemed to fall asleep as he held me in his arms. I was in a dark place, but the darkness wasn’t complete. I felt like I could escape this dark. I was not alone, I was comforted by an unseen spirit, and he held me, protected me from the darkness.

I woke up, my head rested on Loki’s leg, and he was reading a book with one hand, the other was resting on my head. I started to sit up, looking around, unable to remember how I’d gotten to be there, then I remembered. The empty feeling, the kiss- I shouldn’t have kissed him. He’d kissed me, but I still shouldn’t have let him. He’s a prince. I was street scum. He looked at me, expectantly. He’d asked something.

“What?” I asked, and he smiled fondly. Like he would at a silly child. Or maybe was just fond of me. I don’t know.

“I asked if you were feeling better,” Loki asked, the little smile disappeared from his lips. I didn’t want to have made him sad, but I couldn't seem to not.

“Yes. I don’t know why it started again.” I looked down into my lap. I was telling the truth, but it felt like I was lying, because of course I’d seen it coming, but had tried to ignore it.

“That’s good.” Loki said, and continued to sit back. I stood up, and started to walk away, but Loki’s hand caught mine. 

“Where are you going?” he asked, puzzled looking. I fidgeted in his piercing gaze.

“Its-” I tried to jerk my hand away, but he wouldn’t let me go. “It’s not right.” I finished, but he wouldn’t let go of my hand.

“Why do you say that? What's not right?” Loki asked, and tightened his grip. 

“You are the second in line for the throne of Asgard. Before our island in the sky was blown up, I was street scum. No more than a pile of rags, for all people would look at me.” I said, and he looked at me and furrowed his eyebrows. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

Suddenly, he pulled me to him again, but he was sitting, so I ended up almost falling onto him. A small, twisted part of my mind wouldn’t have minded landing on him. Being so close in that other way. He seemed to have wanted me to land on him, and jerked me off balance again, my knees buckled and I ended up kneeling over him, both his legs between mine, and he sat up and kissed me. It was not the slow, comforting kiss of the before nap. It was slow, but it burned with a passion I had never known for anyone else. He opened his mouth to me, and I sucked in a breath through my nose as the hand not on my wrist rested on my hip. 

I was in shock, but I was kissing back. A weak part of my mind was shrieking for me to stop, to stop he didn’t want a waist of a human like me kissing him, he was a prince and could have anyone! Slowly, to my dismay, he broke the kiss. 

“Do you really think I would do that to someone I found repulsive?” he said, his eyes dark and half closed. I breathed quickly, and pried his hand off my wrist and waist. I scooted off the couch and ran my hands through my hair. He looked over at me, with interest. 

“Why would you do that?” I said quietly, shaking. I ran my hands through my hair repeatedly.

“What? I thought-” He stood up and took a couple steps toward me, but not too close. 

“I-” I was breathing too hard. I felt bile at the back of my throat, and I knew panic was coming.

“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to- I should have asked first.” he said, and he looked wounded. Wounded, the word bounced around in my head.

“No- I didn’t mind the kiss-” I raked my nails around my scalp. “I liked the kiss, I like you a lot-” I was breathing far too quickly. 

“Love-” he walked to me and put his hands on my arms, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. 

“I liked the kiss- its just-” I closed my eyes and breathed slowly for a while. “I don’t know how to react to it. I’ve never kissed anyone else.” I said and massaged my temples. “I am completely inexperienced and bad at handling emotion.” I looked into Loki’s face, and he looked so relieved.

“I’m glad to hear it’s not me.” he smiled. “I was afraid you didn’t want to kiss me.” his grip on my arms lessened. 

“Definitely not you.” I laughed a little at the thought, the panic in my mind seemed to be ebbing away. “I just- don’t know. It’s just like that.” I shrugged, and Loki smiled a little at me. My heart was beating at a normal pace again, and my breath had returned to normal. I felt- comfortable.

“I can’t know.” he looked into my eyes, “Unless you explain.” he smiled with the little bit of mischief I was accustomed to. I put my hands on his upper arms, mimicking his grip on me.

“I promise, I’ll tell you when I know myself.” I looked up into his face, and he looked down at me. The fondness in his eyes was surprising. The only person who's looked at me like they’d genuinely liked me was my mother, and it was beautiful, translated into Loki’s face.

He smiled with half his mouth, and I realized how little I knew him. I knew I didn’t know him as well as I should, to be this attached, but I knew I could trust the trickster. I’d shown him my weakness, and he’d kissed my wounds. He was not the wolf of his body. When I’d exposed my weakness, he’d responded in kind, and that spoke louder than any song from the tiny music maker the Arorian’s had given me. The songs made me feel at 75, but Loki made me feel at 100.


	7. ~7~

I left Loki after the two of us just looked at one and other for a long time. It sounds like an odd romantic book, but it’s what really happened. We didn’t say anything for a while, for what felt like an eternity. It would have been around 11 am on earth when I left him, and it was just that. I left the room, after my arms fell down his arms, and left the room. I looked him in the face as I left, and he nodded solemnly. I exited the room, and I felt lighter than I’d felt before. He’d taken the cuff off my leg and freed me from the ball and chain, and I was grateful. Everything felt happy, and this time, the good nature of the people seemed to apply to me too. I smiled at the people who walked past me, and they smiled back, and I seemed not to be street scum to them anymore. It felt liberating.

I walked with my head high to my workroom, where a slew of notes with requests on the people adorned my door. I took them off and walked into the room. I got out the music maker, pressed the button, and a quick beat started to pump out, along with some odd lyrics about hearts and flute music. The melodies were pleasing, but the lyrics were vaguely frightening, talking about only liking the idea about someone. It seemed a little sinister.

I started to work on the posted requests on the door, and soon a knock on my door sounded. I looked up and called out for them to enter, and quickly turned off the music. A slight young woman with big gray eyes stepped inside. Her hair was black and curly, and she looked like a young deer. 

“Hello?” I asked and she smiled, meekly.

“Hi. I have-” she paused, twisting part of her skirt in her fists.

“Yes?” I asked, and she blushed and looked down.

“I would like to be taught to sew. I overheard King Thor speaking of teaching more people to sew so it would easier to meet the demand of the people,” She said and looked down. 

“What is your name, child?” I asked, and she looked at me sharply. Her eyes were dark brown and her hair was curly and brown. She was a little rounder than most Asgardian women, but I thought nothing of it.

“Gwendoline and I’m 1032.” She was indignant, and I laughed. 

“I’m sorry for underestimating your age, but your name is Gwendoline?” I asked, and she nodded. I cracked up laughing. “We have the same nicknames.” 

“How do you mean that?” She asked, and tilted her head to the side.

“My name is Gwyneth. Were both Gwyn.” I laughed, and she laughed after a slow smile spread across her face. She laughed quietly, not loud like some of the woman she looked like. 

 

“That is funny.” she smiled and laughed quietly. She seemed to be a quiet laugher, and it made me happy. When I was younger, I laughed like her.

“I would be happy to teach you to sew.” I laughed, and she smiled big at me. She seemed really happy to know I would tolerate her, and that made me sad. When she’d first looked at me, she’d seemed so worried I wouldn’t want to teach her. It made me remember my youth, even if she looked nothing like me. She could have been my young self-attitude twin.

I pulled a chair up to my desk and showed her a basic stitch that she picked up quickly. By the time someone else came to my door to have me sew something. Gwen walked over to the window, hiding her face from the elderly man who entered.

“Gwen.” He said. He wasn’t carrying any fabric, so I was puzzled.

“Y-ye-yes papa?” She said quietly, and turned to him, playing with her skirt.

“I wish you would have told me where you were going. I had to go to Devon to find out where you’d gone. I wish you wouldn’t do that.” He said, and walked over to her and grabbed her by the upper arm. I saw the fear in her eyes, but I didn’t know how to help her.

“I know-” She said, but her father started to pull her away, towards the door. I stepped between her father and the door.

“I think you should be kinder to her. She told me she wanted to learn how to sew so she could help you.” I said. I lied, but who wouldn’t keep her safe?

“I was not aware scum like you were allowed on the ship,” he said, and my jaw hit the floor. He pushed me aside and walked out, and I could do nothing.

I was unsure of what to do. I felt compelled to follow after, but my weakness pulled me back. I stayed in my workroom and felt like a coward. Her father had had so many sinister undertones to him, I wished I were stronger. I wished I’d had the strength to go after him.

I walked out of the room and walked to the dining hall, where I sat by the window again. It had only been 5 hours between the time I had eaten breakfast and now, and now I was feeling sick. I knew something about her father’s demeanor was wrong, off and not to fix. He seemed to possess the simple kind of insanity I’d seen growing up in the ‘rough’ part of Asgard. I’d seen people touch one and other in ways, and other ways, and like the way He’d touched Gwendoline. He’d grabbed her arm, and she’d freaked out. I knew I had to do something, but I didn’t know what I could do. I was not friends with a stronger person who could beat him up, like the ‘gangs’ I’d seen, I did not have money to have him killed, I did not possess immense the kind of cleverness that gets you a reputation- but I did have someone who did. I had Loki. He was strong too, but I knew Gwendoline’s father would be stronger than Loki. Even if he were an old man, he was still stronger looking. 

Who was Devon? Was he a brother? Lover? Fellow abuser? I was swimming with questions, but I did not have a way to find out answers. I ate my food with the same troubles I had that morning, but now they were not my own trouble. They were my sewing student’s problems.

I was so absorbed in thought, I jumped when Loki sat down next to me. 

 

“You seem unhappy,” he asked, and I shook my head. He cocked an eyebrow at me.

“I am worried about this girl who came to get a lesson on sewing from me. “Her father seems extremely controlling and I’m worried she’s being abused.”

Loki leaned back against the glass next to me, and his eyes unfocused. He blew out a breath for so long I worried he would pass out.

“What is her name?” He asked, looking down at me in worry. 

“Gwendoline. I know.” I said, and Loki laughed. “Two Gwyns.” I laughed a little, but mostly I was too worried about her to find the Gwyn/Gwen thing funny.

“I can look into the matter,” he said and ate a grape. He held a small ceramic bowl that had been glued back together after being broken. 

“Thank you,” I said, and smiled quietly at Loki, who put a hand on my shoulder. The two of us finished our lunches, and we walked out of the hall together, down a corridor, and we stopped at the intersection of two hallways. One that would lead to workrooms and my room, and one way that would lead Loki to his room. 

“You could take the rest of the day off, come with me if you wanted.” He said and looked at me in a way I couldn’t name. It made me a little short of breath, the darkness in his eyes.

“But I’ve got to work…?” I said, and Loki rolled his eyes sarcastically.

“There are other seamstresses…” he said, and he traced up my arm, sending chills through my body.

I bit my lip, holding back a grin. I felt a bit naughty. I knew I would be needed. I knew my work would be missed. But still, I was definitely thinking about it. I looked down the hall toward my workroom and realized all that would happen would be another hard day of work. I looked down the hall toward Loki’s quarters and imagined what little I knew of- of what he was asking for, and I knew it was limited, but I was still intrigued. The call of the unknown rang in my ears as I turned to Loki, who looked at me, his eyes instant on an answer.

I smiled at him in the way he’d only been able to smile at me. The dark smirk, suggesting much more than words could say. I took his hand, and slowly started back down the hallway, and Loki followed, a similar smirk adorning his perfect face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I have some news. I'm going to be out of The USA for 10 days on vacation to Europe, and I'm not going to be bringing my laptop for safety reasons. While I'm on vacation, I will be writing with my phone, so when I get back I'm going to start posting again. 
> 
> (I'm so happy. The explosion of views and Kudos makes me feel like writing this stuff is worth it, and I really enjoy the validation of my hobby. <3)


	8. ~8~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!

Nothing in the world is like love. Love comes under many different names or words or actions, but all mean the same thing. Devotion is what it felt like, and I was so happy. 

I lay in Loki’s bed, and looked up at the rusty green ceiling, and pondered the good things that had just happened to me. Loki was sleeping next to me, and when I looked at him, he seemed centuries younger. The stress of ruling Asgard was aging him, but it didn’t look that bad. His hair as in his face and his eyes were closed. He was naked and laying on his front, and the blankets on the bed just covering his lower back.

It felt like love. The wonderful things he’d done to me with his hands and- other parts, they’d felt like nothing else in the world, and so I thought it must have been more than life. I think Love is more than life, and I’d choose a shorter life it’s far more love over a longer life with none.

I slid out of Loki’s bed a little, and he stirred from his sleep and his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. He looked up at me and smiled, the mystery green in them made my heart beat a little faster. 

“Hey.” He said he had morning voice. 

“Hey,” I replied and smiled back at him. 

“Did you sleep?” He asked, and pushed himself into a sitting position. He was mostly exposed to me now that he’d woken up and moved, the white sheets covered his left leg- and penis- and that was it. 

“A little. You fell asleep right away. It was a little funny.” I replied and smiled at him fondly.

“You were trying to leave?” He asked, but didn’t loosen his grip on my wrist. He seemed like it was a joke, and a joke he would be sticking to.

“Yes, I was going to go to work,” I replied and tugged a little bit at my arm. He smirked up at me. 

“I don’t think you have to.” He said the mischief in his eyes made me a little nervous. And hot.

“Why is that?” I asked, playing along.

“Because I may have created a clone of you that is currently acting as you, but will disappear when no one is around and when the workday is done.” He smiled at me, and tugged back at my arm, pulling me back into his bed. He slid down into the bed and lifted me onto him. I folded my legs next to his hips, and he grabbed my arm and tugged me so that he could kiss me. He didn’t go into my mouth that time, but we kissed in little bits, more teeth and lips than the tongue. 

“That is both brilliant and simultaneously worrisome,” I whispered breathily. My eyes were closed when I said this, so I opened them. Loki’s eyes were astonishingly green. 

“Why worrisome?” He asked, and ran his hand up my side and cupped my breast.

“You see-“ I began, but his other hand had been tracing down between my breasts and stroked the place where my legs joined, and I was unable to continue my words for a few seconds. I gasped and bit my lip.

“I see what, darling?” He said in a dark purr that didn’t help me find my voice, but I began to speak again anyway.

“You see, if the clone isn’t perfect, people will know that it isn’t really me,” I said breathlessly, and the two of us began to kiss again, Loki kissed like he was trying to suck out my soul. I loved it. I shiver of ice spread from his hand on my hip, and I peaked one eye open. His skin was blue, and I remembered, ‘oh yeah, he’s a frost giant’. It was a little disconcerting, but as the cold spread to the hand that remained between my thighs, I gasped as he pinched, the colds mixing with pain was awesome. And I mean awesome in the original meaning. To inspire awe. I never even though anything could feel this good.

I whined quietly as he removed his fingers from my core. Loki chuckled quietly at my reaction, and our eyes met. His had transformed and were slowly growing, red. Little bits of green remained just around the edge of his iris, but they were slowly disappearing. He smiled, and the predatory glint sent a shiver up my spine.

“I have an idea.” He said, and smirked, he flicked his eyes up at the bed frame, and as I watched, two handles formed like the bed was made of sentient putty.

“What's that fo-OH!” I said as Loki lifted me above him, and I felt his mouth on my core. I held onto the two handles, lord knows I now needed them. I watched my knuckles grow white and through my head back, letting out a strangled noise that resembled nothing in our language. I felt him laugh under me, and the vibrations sent wonderful spikes up my spine. 

I got to a point when I knew It would be good too- not let myself get too loud. Neither of us was supposed to be- in such position. He was supposed to be keeping order in the kingdom, and I was supposed to be sewing. I leaned my head down and bit my knuckles, holding in the wonderfull noises that Loki evoked from me. It was a good idea too, as a loud knock at the door sounded, scaring me. I rolled off Loki and off the bed, and then under it. I heard rustling from him, then a booming sound emanated from everywhere on the ship.

“LOKI!” Thor shouted. “UNLOCK THE DOOR!” a loud sound emanated from the door, like bending metal.

“WAITNODON’T-” Loki shouted and I heard more metal bending, and then a shrieking tare from the door. “FUCK!” I watched as best as I could as he pulled his pants on from the floor in record time. 

“LOKI WERE UNDER ATTACK!!” Thor shouted from the doorway, seemingly not noticing Loki dressing at lightspeed. 

“YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO DESTROY MY DOOR!” Loki shouted back, quickly grabbing his coat from the floor and pulling on his boots. The two walked away from the room, and I heard their voices fade as they jogged away. 

I sat and processed what had just happened. I looked out, and quickly pulled my undergarments from near the bed, where they’d landed. I slipped them on quick as lightning, and reached for my dress, and pulled it on as best I could, laying down. I scooted out from under his bed and pulled on my shoes, simple flats with worn, but still good, souls. 

I stood up, looked at the door. It had been torn off the hinges and lay a few feet away from the doorway, and it seemed to have a large dent in the handle. I laughed silently. I had never seen one such activity to another so quickly, and after getting over my initial fear of Thor breaking the door, I was amused. Then I seemed to process what he’d said.

We were under attack.


	9. ~9~

The ship was simultaneously calm and pandemonic. I watched children standing, stone-faced holding their parent's hand, while their parents were shrieking and hollering at the top of their lungs, looking for their loved ones. People crowded the halls, and I’d never seen so many different reactions to- this. The knowledge that the previously held peace was over, and who knew what was going to come of this. 

I was about to enter my sewing room, empty, but the loudspeakers crackled to life, and Thor’s voice instructed us to go to the dining hall. I took my hand off the door handle, and it was like The Great Exodus of the Light Elves. Everyone was gone from the hall before I knew it, and I followed. 

I was not reacting like I’d figured I would. I was silent, mind set on getting to the dining hall. I was frightened, but I knew I’d have to do anything to protect my people- and Loki. Loki had left so quickly, I hadn't processed what his being dragged away by Thor had meant for him. I nibbled at the cuticle of my pointer finger as I worried. I knew he could handle himself, for sure, but I couldn’t help seeing him- shirtless, but not in a good way. He was tied at the wrist, and his head fell back from him, and there was a deep cut in the dead center of his chest. A small trickle of blood fell from the corner of his mouth, and his front below his wound was coated crimson. Almost like a freshly made candied apple, his blood on his chest glistened, and the horror in my stomach at the scene brought me back to reality.

I shook off the temporary fog and hurried to the dining hall. It was loud, but I could only hear snippets of conversations, but I could seem to piece together what was happening. 

I heard words about little green creatures chewing wires, about their ship latching onto ours, and drilling through the hull. I heard about a bigger ship in the distance, and I heard about an army. I looked around and saw a feeble amount of people who looked able to fight, and my blood ran cold. 

I may have been a nothing before Hela reaped Asgard, but even then I’d had access to information. There had always been the great library, and I’d scrolled for hours, studying other cultures. I’d always been fascinated by races of aliens, who seemingly didn’t have it- together. One such people, humanoid but only just. I saw a poster that was trying to get people to donate to refugee camps, to help displaced peoples. The poster was a close shot of a young one, and I remember so much fear and hopelessness in the child’s eyes. It broke my heart to see such a young thing in so much pain. 

I looked around the room, and I saw people of every age with the same look in their eyes. Another photo I’d seen was a mere CHILD holding a high powered assault weapon. I knew it had a name, but it was nothing like any weapon I’d ever seen, but the caption below the photo had asserted that it was, in fact, a weapon. I looked around at those who seemed to be able to fight, all seemed young. I know this may be read by many alien races, and unfortunately, I do not know many. Suffice it to say, the children in the photos were perhaps only a tenth of their lifespan, and many who would fight for Asgard now, were maybe only two-tenths of theirs, at most. I knew many would be less.

I heard a woman wail. Many people tuned to the noise, and to my surprise, it was Gwendolyn. I watched her, and she fell to the ground, and her father crowded around her. I watched as another, a young man, crouched next to her too. Maybe he was Deven. I found myself approach. I skidded to a halt a yard and a half away from them, as most where. Gwendoline was curled up on the floor, clutching her midsection. She let out another howl, and Deven clutched at his ears.

“Can’t you be quiet?!” He asked with force but in low tones. He was a brown-haired man with chin-length hair, and he raised his hand, and Gwendoline visibly flinched. I reached out and grabbed his wrist. I yanked him back, off balance. 

“You will not touch her. She is sick, and needs medical attention.” I asserted, and the blue eyes that created me were cold. He wrinkled his nose at me and wrenched his wrist from my grip.

“Is she your wife? Because I seem to remember marrying her, and that was a mistake. She’s nothing but trouble. She’s faking an illness to get attention, that's all.” he said to me, and I slapped him. I slapped him with all the force I could muster, and He fell. No one around us caught him, and he smacked his head on the floor and curled up. Gwendoline’s father stood stock still, and I shot him a withering look. I knelt next to the woman, who was crying silently, and suddenly, another sound of pain ripped from her lips.

“What is happening to you right now?” I asked when she seemed able to answer again. She opened her beautiful brown eyes to me.

“I. Am. In. Labor.” She spat through ground teeth. My eyes widened. I stood up and looked at the people around. 

“She’s about to give birth, who knows how to deliver a baby?” I said to the silent audience. A commotion near the back of the crowd made its way to my spot, and a woman with grey hair and crows feet pushed to the front. 

“I’ve been a midwife for 2000 years.” She said, and I nodded at the respectable looking old woman. People gathered around her and lifted her, taking care to holder in the safest way possible. I looked at Devan and her father. 

“You disgust me. Neither of you should be allowed to live on Asgard.” I said, and flipped off the father, and ran after the crowd that was helping Gwen to the infirmary.

She sat, and her dark skin glistened with sweat, her hair was dirty and tangled, but she didn’t look like she was in so much pain now. No one else was allowed into the hospital room, she locked eyes with me, and I understood. I turned to the crowd that had formed in the doorway. I blocked her from view and shouted.

“All of you out. Now!” I yelled, and as if they were in a fog, jolted out of the room, back to the room. I turned back to Gwendoline, who had her eyes open, she seemed calmer now. She seemed like she was no longer in such pain, and she smiled weakly at me.

“Thank you, miss.” She whispered as the midwife prepared an infant bed.

“How long have you been experiencing contractions?” the midwife asked sharply. 

“A couple of hours,” Gwen answered, and looked away.

“Well, It could have been worse. Do you know how long you’ve been pregnant?” The midwife asked, and Gwendoline was about to answer but her entire body tensed and she wailed again and clutched at the bed. I walked to her side and she clutched my hand. I knew little of her life, but I knew I had to stand by her. I knew we had similar life experiences, I was just more healed from my wounds than she was. Mine were just healed stitches, her’s were an open wound. This made her my sister.

“No. I’ve always been a little fat, I only found out a little while before-” She rushed out before another contraction hit her. She seemed to have shorter and shorter periods of time between the contractions now. “Only about a couple months before Hela happened!” She ended this sentence with a shriek of pain. I clasped her hand and whispered quietly to her, telling her everything would be ok.

The midwife didn’t answer her answer, but seemingly in a whirlwind prepared a place for an infant to be wrapped in a blanket. A silver tray of instruments sat by it, glinting ominously in the light. 

I do not know how long it took. I did not count how many times she clutched my hand like it was the only thing that was real, and I lost count of how many times I assured her in low tones that everything would be ok. I knew it would sound like a simple thing with no reality to it, but I knew with every bone in my body, every iron laced cell in my veins, I would not let her father or her husband hurt her again. Or anyone. I sat by her side for a long time before it seemed like any progress had been made.

“You may not have much work left.” The midwife, Virginia Caus, said into a quiet, and my head snapped to her, demanding information. “The head is about to be out,” She finished, and I looked back to Gwen, who didn’t seem to care. She screamed again, and her whole body contorted. The midwife called out a couple more times, announcing parts of the baby she could see. Head, neck, arms, waist- then there was a baby. The midwife snipped the baby’s umbilical cord and swaddled it in the blanket like a ninja. She stood as Gwendoline painted like a dog, and I looked over. It was looking around like it was frightened, but it didn’t cry. It looked at me, and then at the midwife, then at Gwen, who just gazed down at it, and sat up, looking down at the baby.

“What is it?” she asked quietly, after just staring at it for a long time, like she’d never seen anything like it before.

“A princess.” the midwife grinned, and that's when Gwendoline’s eyes became oceans, but she was smiling so hard It must have heard. The midwife pulled out papers and started writing a birth certificate, and I looked out the door, down the hall. I spotted a man and waved him over.

“Can you give me any updates on the attack?” I asked hurriedly, and the man grinned. 

“The nasty beasts got kicked off hours ago, and King Thor made their ship scramble away just a few minutes ago. We won the first battle of New Asgard!” He grinned, and I laughed. I ran back to the infirmary and told the three woman the news.

Gwendoline smiled down at her sleeping child, then looked back up at us. “Victory. Her name is Victory.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy! :P


	10. Chapter 10

Life on the ship was not so bad. Victory’s birth seemed to spark many other women to give birth, and within the next four months, nearly 15 babies were born. Most of them were completely healthy at birth, and almost no mothers had to stay in the hospital for very long.

I wondered at the atmosphere of Asgard. The light seemed warmer, children ran through the halls shouting and laughing, people seemed- happy, and for once, I didn’t feel like I was the bottom on society. I was happy, along with everyone else, for what felt like the first time ever. Devan was being kept away from Gwendoline, and every day, Gwen seemed like she was more alive than ever. Little Viki, once Gwendoline was discharged from the infirmary, grew fast. She was tan like her mother, but her eyes were blue. Her blue eyes were unlike her father’s, her father's eyes were light, and hers were dark blue. Like an ocean bordered by a desert.

Gwendoline and I seemed to know one and other. We knew each other's pain like no one else could. Even Loki, with his wonderful eyes and mind, he did not know what I had felt, but it did feel like Gwendoline did. And it was wonderful. I am saddened to say I didn’t know all of her pain. She had been beaten and repeatedly taken to bed without permission many times, and I knew not how to help her heal, other than to give her time and as much love as I could. 

We can truly only know our own pain. I can feel similar pain to Gwendoline, but it is not the same. We put words to it, we discussed, we cried, but there were always, and still, ar times when I’ll express a feeling and she will know little of it. Pain is something different for everyone, and so I know she is love. I love Loki because he was the first light in the darkness I could reach. I was the first light in the darkness Gwendoline could reach, and so she loves me, and I love her because our pain is so similar, but Loki doesn’t love Gwendoline. Loki’s pain is a bridge to mine, and mine a bridge to Gwendoline's, but both of them feel very little of each other's pain. 

I wish I could say more of Loki, and I wish I could say more of Devan, of Thor, of Gwendoline, and of Little Victory with eyes like oceans, but I fear my words must be cut short. Even as I write to you now, my life, every Asgardian life is in danger. My ship, my people, my little family I’ve put together from nothing are being destroyed by Thanos’ ship.

To everyone in my cosmos, I love you, and wish I could tell you mo-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you have enjoyed my story! :)


End file.
